Rubble
by chumscrubbs
Summary: Dumbledore's life as a teenager, his relationship with his siblings and Grindelwald's arrival at Godric's Hollow. *The chapters are not meant to be read in chronological order, 1-2-3-5-6-4-7-8, but they can be, nonetheless.
1. Chapter 1

Albus tried to clear his head. He felt as if he had not slept in ages. His bright blue eyes seemed pale to him when he looked at them on the surface of his cup of tea.

Ariana had gone to sleep. Finally. He lifted the cup and started the walk back to his bedroom.

"Bloody – " he whispered as his foot bumped into one of the legs of the heavy wooden table.

"_Lumos." _The light from the wand filled the kitchen with an eerie glow. A jar of raspberry jam sat in the middle of the table. There was a note beside it.

He set his tea down, lifted his wand, and picked the piece of paper up.

Albus,

I stopped by earlier, but you weren't home.

Picked this up for you.

Word in the Hollow has it it's delightful.

Come by my place tomorrow if you have the time.

I might've found that book you wanted by then.

See you soon,

Bathilda.

He put the paper down and looked around the kitchen. They were running short on just about everything edible. He had to go shopping tomorrow morning. He squinted and looked out the window, trying to decide whether it was already morning or not, and asked himself why he'd come down here. He could've easily conjured something to drink in his bedroom. The lack of habit, he thought, knowing instantaneously he wasn't being honest.

A thought occurred to him. The sort that came more and more often lately, as if his mind was trying to remind him there was only so much he could get out of books. He flicked his wand distractedly while he tried to remember something he'd read about dragon blood. The cup transformed into a flower pot, he flicked it again and there was a tea cup over the table once more.

He sat in one of the chairs and put his face between his hands. He sighed.

Barely a week had passed and already he could feel the energy draining out of him. The afternoons with Miss Bagshot were relieving, but there was still the feeling that Godric's Hollow, with its languid air and tree laden pathways, was a prison lovely with flowerbeds and pleasant skies.

There was little he could do about it, and as he walked up the stairs to his bedroom, he nudged himself to stop complaining.

He lay down over the covers of his bed. Aberforth looked like a heap of dirty laundry on top of the bed next to his. He doused his wand silently so as not to wake his brother up, stared at the ceiling in the darkness, and started humming to the beat of his brother's snoring; a continuous, sustained hum that grew deeper as he felt the mattress pulling him towards the floor.

He needed to see the book on dragons once more tomorrow.

_And_ go shopping too, he thought without really meaning to.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, is your friend in Greece already?"

Bathilda Bagshot's living room was packed with books. Every surface above ground level – and some not even – was occupied by rickety piles of volumes on the most unlikely subjects imaginable.

"Yes, Miss Bagshot," he said as he took the porcelain cup to his mouth. "Elphias must've arrived in Greece somewhere between yesterday and this morning."

"Bathilda, my boy, please."

"Forgive me, Bathilda." He sipped some tea and scanned the shelf behind Bathilda's armchair for the book on dragons.

"He didn't want to go," he said distractedly. "Said he could come over and help, but I finally talked some sense into him."

"You could use the company, Albus," she replied with a look of concern on her face. "When was the last time you were out in the sun?

"I enjoy your visits very much, dear, but what sort of entertainment can an old historian provide for a brilliant young man like yourself?"

"You'd be surprised, Miss Bagshot. And besides, Elphias had been planning his world tour ever since his fifth year at Hogwarts. I would've never asked him to give it up."

"_Bathilda_, Albus, and I understand perfectly, but that is not my point.

"To think that the brightest wizard of his generation spends the summer after his graduation – "

"Bathilda," he interrupted politely. "The tea was lovely, but I need to fix my siblings' supper. In fact, I needed to quite a while ago."

She was taken aback a little, but recovered quickly and understood the message. "Oh. Right you are. Well –

"let me get that book you wanted. I only found it yesterday. Wondered where I'd left it after the last time you took it." She exited the sitting room.

"Have you tried the jam already?" came her voice from the kitchen.

"I – " A speckled owl flew in through the open window, dropped a letter on Albus' lap, and flew away. He looked at it as it made its way, until it became a spot in the distance and vanished.

"I, um – Miss… Bathilda. There was an owl just here for you."

"Oh," said Bathilda as she returned from the kitchen with a book under an arm and three slices of cake on a plate in her hand.

"Thank you, dear." She exchanged the book for the letter. "I marked the chapter on their circulatory system; thought you might be interested.

"I'd love to be of more help, but dragons are not exactly my specialty, and – " She sighed. "Well, the cake's for your siblings and you. Enjoy." She smiled.

"Thank you, Bathilda," said Albus. "For everything."

"A pleasure, my boy. Your brother and you are beginning to look gray. You let me know about that jam."

The moment he heard Bathilda's front door closing behind him, he opened the book where it was marked.

His expression turned dim. He flicked through the rest of the chapter; only three pages. To be expected. In a historian's house.

He shut the book and made it for his house, but Aberforth was walking up the road in his direction, an expression of deepest loathing on his face. It was evident he had been crying. He must've spent his morning at the graveyard, Albus thought to himself.

Looked as if a remarkably long day lay ahead. Yet again.


	3. Chapter 3

"But why can't I?! She doesn't even like you! You can barely get her to eat every once in a while!"

"Because I'm older and I've graduated, Aberforth. You can't give up school at your age", he said, trying desperately to keep a serene face.

"See, _that's_ where you're wrong.

"Mr. Headboy Prefect winner of every prize ever existed at Hogwarts, _he_ can't give up his education. But useless goat-herding Aberforth's an _entirely_ different situation – "

"You are _not_ a situation, Aberforth." His face remained impassive. "You have not come of age, I am responsible for you, and I am telling you, you will go back to school when the summer ends."

"I hate you! She hates you! Why can't you leave us alone and go save the world or something?!" He picked up a jar of jam from the table and hurled it in his brother's direction.

Albus waved his wand and the flying jar dissolved into grains of sand. He closed his eyes as they came smashing to his face. Aberforth's face turned several colors at once.

"I _HATE_ YOU!"

He turned away and left the house, smashing the kitchen door so that one of the glass panes fell off and shattered against the floor. Somewhere deeper inside the house, there was a mild explosion.

Ariana walked into the kitchen holding a white blanket, her bright blue eyes looking as if she couldn't open them wider. Albus went to her and gave her a hug.


	4. Chapter 4

"But it's not, Albus, it's not.

"It's anti-natural; that the superior being has to go into hiding for the sake of the weaker one.

"Where's the logic in that?"

"How do you distinguish between the two, Gellert?"

"Don't give me that, mate!

"Think of Ariana. What was done to her was vile, repugnant… but what is being done is worse.

"She wouldn't have to hide, Albus! The Statute of Secrecy would not even exist!

"The wizarding kind would no longer be subject to torture because of its power; its naturally-given power."

Albus smiled a little, without noticing.

"What?!" he said and smiled as well. "Do not mock me, Dumbledore. You know I'm right." He walked over to the couch, let himself fall, and exhaled profusely, as if he was taking time off from a duel. He rummaged through his pocket and pulled something out.

"I got these in London, muggle-lover." He threw the bag of Sherbet Lemons at Albus. They hit a bookshelf and landed on the floor.

"Thank you," he said as he picked them up. "You rarely find them here."

"You don't get them as much as you'd like because you don't want to. But you could."

"Give it a rest already."

Gellert shrugged and extended his open palm, asking for Albus' candy. "My aunt didn't want me to tell you," he said while breaking a sherbet in two with his teeth, "but a letter came in from the Wizengamot yesterday… wanting to know what happened to their brilliant British representative or whatever – "

Albus tried to smile, but his expression contorted into a grimace instead.

"I said give it a rest, Gellert." His factions turned somber.

Gellert sat up on the edge of the couch. "You're wasting yourself here."

"You don't even believe in the Wizengamot."

"You could _be_ the Wizengamot if only you decided to."

Albus lifted his head. Bathilda's living room had grown steadily darker. The sun was coming down. "I have to go home."

"Sure," he answered without lifting his head.

Albus got off the couch and accidentally stepped on a cup of tea they had left on the floor earlier.

"Damn, can I… do you have an extra pair of – " he said and looked down at his shoeless feet.

"Be my guest," answered Gellert and pointed to the stairs. Albus nodded and left the living room.

It seemed strange to him, as he was walking up the stairs, how he had never been to the upper story of Bathilda's home.

He stopped as he reached the second floor landing and realized he could have siphoned the tea off his sock with his wand. He lowered his head and moved it from side to side in disappointment. The brightest wizard of his generation indeed.

He put his left hand to his temple and leaned against the wall. Maybe Gellert was right after all. A couple more months in the hollow and he would not remember he was a wizard at all. The thought barely lasted a moment. He composed himself and was about to go downstairs when he noticed a green glow coming from beneath a door at the end of the hallway.

He took a quick glance downstairs. There was no movement. Gellert must have still been in the living room.

He started walking towards the door. The closer he got, the more clearly he could smell something. The scent was familiar, but he could not make up his mind as to what it was.

His heart beat a little faster than was necessary, and he wondered why. He felt as if he was about to make an enormous discovery. He heard the faintest trace of an explosion behind the door.

"What's taking you so long?" said Gellert from the top of the stairs.

Albus turned around abruptly and bumped his back against the door. "I – " he stuttered. "I couldn't decide which one was yours." He motioned to the doors. Gellert shrugged.

"You could've used magic, you know." He tried to appear nonchalant, but something in his demeanor made evident that he could sense Albus' nervousness. He smiled. He was enjoying it.

"What've you been doing in there?" said Albus and pointed behind him with his head.

Gellert walked up the hall, getting closer and closer until the two were face to face, their backs against the walls.

"I know I'm the small one and everything," he paused meaningfully, "but that shouldn't suggest I'm stupid." He leaned closer to Albus and lowered his voice. "It's not some fantasy land I drift to when I talk to you. Everything I say has thought behind it.

"It is _all_ possible, Albus. Everything. I know it. We can make it happen.

"So when you're done playing housekeeper tonight, think about what I've said, and if you decide to put an end to this senseless underestimating of yours, we can finish our conversation."

He noticed how cold he was when Gellert stopped talking, moved away from him, walked into his bedroom, and shut the door.

He was alone in the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

An astronomy class from his last year at Hogwarts unwound in the back of Albus' mind as he blinked for the second time. He had been testing himself for information on clouds and drifted to a particularly fascinating lesson on the environments of the moons of Pluto. He had meant to write a paper on the subject at some point.

The sky was so clear it looked as if a storm had just ended. The grass, sprayed with the remainders of morning dew, prickled the nape of his neck and wet his back.

He blinked again. For a moment, the universe seemed to consist only of the endless mass of invisible matter above him. He focused so much on the air he was beginning to see it vibrate, but his concentration was broken by a familiar voice.

"Albus!" Bathilda Bagshot stood waving at him from the lane before the Dumbledores' front yard.

But he barely noticed her. Next to her, stood a boy with wavy shoulder-length blond hair, who looked clearly as if he was being held there against his will. His anxiety was so palpable he looked to Albus as if he was trembling. He sat up.

"Hello, Bathilda," he said and waved back. The lady bid him closer with her hand.

Albus had difficulty getting up. There was something about the boy with Miss Bagshot that excited him, a feeling that he was in the presence of someone somehow remarkable.

He walked up to where the fence separated the garden from the lane.

"Good morning, Bathilda." The left corner of his lip rose a little.

"Morning, Albus," she said as she hugged him over the fence and kissed his cheek. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

She gestured for the boy, who was further away than Albus had made out at first glance, standing by some bushes, holding his left arm with his right hand, to come closer.

Albus went to the door in the fence and stepped from his front yard to the lane.

"Gellert, this is Albus."

The blond boy extended a hand and smiled crookedly at Albus.

"Albus, this is my nephew – great nephew, Gellert. He's… Well, he's on a holiday of sorts –"

Albus took the hand and shook it. He looked at the boy's eyes and saw something in them that made his breathing accelerate.

"…and is staying with me for a while."

The boy nodded without releasing his hand.

"Albus graduated from Hogwarts this summer. He wrote a brilliant paper for _Transfiguration Today _when he was still in his sixth year," continued Bathilda.

Albus had never had to concentrate so much on a person's words in order to make sense of them. He held on to the boy's hand.

"Gellert's a brilliant wizard, Albus. Could use a little positive influence if you ask me, but –"

"Never mind that," interrupted the boy. He let go of Albus' hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," he mimicked.

Bathilda stepped back and looked at the young men as if she were examining a recently finished creation. "Well… I have some errands to run. I'll leave you to get to know each other."

Albus nodded in understanding. Or he thought he did. He could not really tell.

"Lovely lady, huh?" said Gellert when his aunt had walked away. He swung himself back and forth on his shoes. His uneasiness seemed gone all of a sudden.

"Brilliant, too," answered Albus after a considerable time. He wondered silently if he had ever spoken to someone in such a ridiculous fashion.

"I'll – I'll see you around, then," he pattered and walked in his aunt's direction.

Albus' mind slowly eased itself into functioning again.


	6. Chapter 6

Albus heard a thump coming from inside the house and knocked on Bathilda's front door.

"Come in!" shouted a male voice.

He entered, closed the door softly behind him, and went to the living room. He had to squint to make out the contours of the furniture.

"Um… Good night, Gellert. Is your aunt – "

"Come in here, mate." He made his way around the couch and found Gellert on the floor with an arm beneath it.

"Hello." He lifted his hand in the air. "I came to return a book. Is your – "

"Could you give us a hand, lad?"

"What – What are you looking for?," said Albus as he kneeled down and placed the book on the floor. He took a silver apparatus out of his pocked and clicked it open. The room filled with light.

Gellert's eyes went wide. He sat up and took the cigarette-lighter-shaped instrument.

"Where'd you get this?"

"It's – I… made it."

"You serious?" He looked at Albus for a moment and returned his gaze to the device.

"It manipulates light," he replied and took the deluminator. "Look."

He took a candle from a nearby table and passed his hand over it. The wick ignited. He pushed a button and the deluminator absorbed the flame.

Gellert looked as if he might cry with happiness. "Wicked."

"So –" he hesitated. "What was it you were looking for?"

"You _made_ this?"

He nodded. His hands seemed suddenly without purpose. "Um…"

Gellert sat back and studied Albus. After a while, he said "I read your paper in that magazine yesterday, after I met you." He paused for a reaction. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

Albus said no with his head.

"You argue that when you transfigure between elements the necessary additional energy can be conjured through specific wand movements, as opposed to incantations, but –"

"Actually," he interrupted, his bright blue eyes shone with intensity, "the wand movements are a means of channeling the energy. In some occasions, of course, they can enhance the transfigurative reaction, but they're more of a manipulative tool.

"I always felt the argument in the paper was that nonverbal spells are exceptional in collecting energy from the environment. Certainly more powerful than verbal spells, at the very least."

"So," continued Gellert as he rummaged around the floor. With the place illuminated, he quickly found what he had been looking for earlier. He held what looked like a piece of machinery between his fingers.

"If we were to transfigure this – I don't know what it's made of, but let's say bronze – into a golden cup – "

"The additional energy surge could be conjured, even if your incantation was both verbal and rudimentary, through wand movements, yes."

He took the little object, tapped it thrice with his wand and said "_Veraverto_". He flicked his wand to the right and made two counterclockwise circles in the air. The object, suspended in mid-air, transformed into a golden cup.

Gellert's mouth opened a little in astonishment. "But there wasn't enough matter to –"

Albus waved his wand desultorily and the cup returned to being a piece of machinery.

Gellert's mouth fell completely open. "How'd you –"

"Silence," he said. "Tends to work better than noise."

"Wiiiiiiicked," he whispered to himself, took the object from the air, and turned to Albus.

"I was expelled from Durmstrang a week ago."

Albus felt his eyes searing into his skin. "What for?" he asked.

Gellert guffawed. "Experimentation, supposedly.

"Mostly for having a mind of my own, I reckon…" He let the idea dissipate.

"I came for the Hallows." His body looked suddenly as if it would explode from all the energy within it.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, mate. Surely you've heard of the Hallows."

Albus nodded.

"Ignotus Peverell is buried here!" he murmured excitedly, as if afraid someone else might listen.

"So, after they expelled me, I figured I might as well give the old Hollow a try." He smiled.

"Matter of fact, I was planning to leave after I found this." He lifted the piece of machinery. "Want to come to the graveyard with me?"

There was something he had to do. Something important, but he could not remember what it was.

"I… yeah. Yes, certainly."

"Brilliant," said Gellert. He patted Albus on the back.

They got up and left the living room.

"So… what exactly does Mr. Future of Contemporary Transfiguration know about the Hallows anyway?"


	7. Chapter 7

The white hot chocolate singed her tongue. She held it away from her mouth and blew on it. After a moment, she placed it carefully on the grass. She crossed her legs and blinked repeatedly in anticipation. She loved when this happened.

A ball of silvery light appeared from behind a tree within the backyard. She smiled and opened the palms of her hands in the direction of the sky.

A handsome translucent bird flew in her direction and landed on her hands. The wind shook the trees behind the house and the night sounded like music. There was hair on her face.

Albus stepped around the tree with his hands behind his back. The bird dissolved into smoke in her sister's grasp.

"That was beautiful, Albus." She stared at the grass, pulled out a blade and rolled it timidly between her fingers. "Can you do it again?"

He smiled and wrinkles formed in the corners of his eyes. He stepped back, drew his wand, pointed it in Ariana's direction, and produced a Patronus in the shape of a baby phoenix. Ariana surrounded it with her hands and grinned at her brother.

Albus moved his wand upwards and the baby bird transformed into a fully-grown silver phoenix. It flew majestically towards the deep night sky.

He had rarely seen her so at ease with her surroundings, her gaze intent on the Patronus.

A fuzzy figure sped through the air and flew through the phoenix, breaking it into wisps of smoke.

Ariana whimpered and held her knees against her chest. Energy beamed from her body that burned a depression into a circle of grass around her. The cup of chocolate burst and the beverage stained her clothes. Her entire body shook as the wind blew her hair in several directions at once.

A speckled owl descended from the sky and dropped a letter in front of the kitchen door.

Albus kneeled down and slowly put a hand on Ariana's head.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "Nothing happened."

She moved his hand away with an arm and buried her face in her knees. "I want to go inside, please."

Albus calmly took her by the arms and helped her stand up.

"I'm sorry I –"

"It's okay, Ariana. Don't apologize."

He took her inside the house. Aberforth had just finished pouring chocolate into two cups; there were marshmallows in his hand. His features hardened as he saw his siblings come in.

"Are you – " he softened as he spoke to Ariana, "are you okay, beautiful?"

She nodded slowly. "Can you take me to bed, please?"

Aberforth pushed his brother away and took Ariana upstairs.

Albus exhaled and went to the garden. He repaired the shards of cup and was restoring the grass to its unburned state when Aberforth walked up to him.

"What were you thinking, doing magic around her," he whispered dangerously.

"It wasn't the magic, Aberforth," he sighed, then hesitated. "There was an owl here to deliver a letter."

Aberforth's eyes lit with violence. "A letter from _him_, wasn't it?" he asked in disgust.

"You're very fond of saying how much you love her –"

His face grew pale with anger. "You –"

"She's growing up, Aberforth. Do you intend for her to stay in the house forever? Caged by her fear, away from all the beauty in the world, from people?" His brother's frame relaxed.

"Magic is part of who she is. She deserves the opportunity to at least explore it."

"But look how it's gotten her!

"You're not almighty. You can't make _everything_ happen. She's not your guinea pig – "

"That's enough." The air seemed to freeze. There was a ripple of energy that pushed Aberforth back a little. He composed himself and sneered sarcastically. "Gonna show off your genius boy powers on me now?

"It's about the one bloody thing you haven't gotten around to – "

"I said that will do, Aberforth."

The authority in his brother's voice took him by surprise. He scowled at him and walked back into the house. Albus stood alone in the garden. He heaved his chest and heard the sound of shattering porcelain coming from the kitchen.

He got closer to the house and picked up the letter the owl had dropped. It was covered with mud and ashes from someone stepping on it.

It was from Gellert.


	8. Chapter 8

For the first time in his life, Albus Dumbledore stopped thinking. Without meaning to and for the most fleeting of instants, but he did so nonetheless. His ideas dissolved. He was so pleased with the world order that he felt horrified by the possibility of it being disrupted.

There were no proportions, no dimensions. His senses were so focused on the touch of Gellert's lips that he could barely keep breathing.

"Come with me, mate."

He fought with all his strength to keep his eyes from opening.

"For the greater good or what you may, but come."

He blinked.

"And go where, exactly?" Albus and Gellert pushed away from each other. Aberforth had walked into the kitchen.

"Go nowhere. We were – "

"I'm tired of this. I won't fight you anymore. I want him out of the house."

Gellert scoffed.

"I've seen the way he looks at you, Albus. It's wrong. There's evil in his eyes."

"I've – "

"Make him leave!"

"I'm going nowhere, goat lad."

Aberforth drew his wand. Albus' eyes opened impossibly wide.

"And just when I thought he couldn't get more dimwitted…" said Gellert with disdain.

"You can't move her. She's finally getting better. She needs stability." He shook with fury.

"This will end. It will end now."

"Don't be daft, shepherd."

Aberforth raised his wand threateningly.

Gellert imitated him. "This is pointless, lad. Get out of your brother's way.

"What he does is for your sister's benefit, for the good of all the wizarding kind.

"Even someone as impaired as you should make an effort to understand."

"Lower your wand."

Gellert had never heard such calm in a human voice. It thundered within him, yet felt extraordinarily peaceful. Albus was pointing his wand at him.

"Lower your wand, Gellert."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "The time has come for you to make up your mind, Albus." He paused.

"I love you."

"Shut up shut up _shut up_, you disgusting, foul – " Aberforth fell to the floor. He contorted in unfeasible directions and bellowed maniacally.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Albus' disarming spell knocked his friend off balance. The screaming stopped.

Gellert flicked his wand with violence, throwing Aberforth against the wall.

"Don't hurt them. Don't hurt them, please."

The voice had lost its serenity, to the point of appearing inhuman. It was so incongruous with the person it came from that Gellert hesitated and turned to Albus. Sudden devastation engulfed him, but his friend did not return his stare. His wand was raised in his direction, but he was looking at his younger sister, who stood trembling in a corner of the room.

"_Expelliarmus_." Gellert fell on his face. He sat up and shot a jet of light at Aberforth.

They moved in Ariana's direction.

Spells exploded in midair and smashed into the walls as, for the second time in his life, Albus Dumbledore stopped thinking. He advanced in the duel's direction – the tremor of his body threatening to dislodge his legs – and stood between his brother and his best friend.

Green light invaded the room.

There was an abrupt, absolute silence.

He made to heave his chest, but his ribcage forbad his lungs to expand.

He felt minuscule.

Tears ran down his face.

He fell on his knees and fought with all his strength not to close his eyes.

Someone pushed him, and he hit the floor like rubble.


End file.
